Once Upon A December
by endeavours
Summary: A woman who doesn't remember her past, and a man who longs to forget his. Tales of the romances that occur from situations like this were nothing to Negan and Imara, because the one they share becomes fuelled on hatred and aggression. But do hatred and aggression help you survive in the apocalypse?


It was the low buzzing of the lake that had drawn her to clearing. She didn't know how she had heard it, or even how she had followed the sound, but nevertheless she was now stood in front of a fast rushing lake that carried to debris and memories of a life before now.

There was a field to one side, just beyond the gap in the trees, and Imara could only assume that once upon a time there would have been cattle or horses roaming free in the area. On the other there was the sign of a derelict swing set - one that looked like it might fall apart if even the slightest pressure were placed upon it. It was almost a solemn sight - unknown whether it may have been a playground or a house that homed a child. All the girl was able to tell was that the swing set had once been loved by someone, and the knowledge that it was sat to delapidate in the midst of Hell mad her heart hurt.

Taking a seat on the lake's floodplain, Imara let out a long sigh and allowed her hair to fall from the hair tie that held it up in place. She felt a deep urge within her to dip her toes into the rushing water, but the rusted metal of discarded items sunken below the surface put her off the idea. It felt like years since she had stepped close to running water, and simply the singing of each water droplet as it crashed into nearby landforms reminded her of how life had been before the apocalypse overtook the earth.

Before the apocalypse. That was a blurred line in her memory. The girl remembered very little, and the folk tale was that she fell off a raft and lost her memory as a result - or at least that was what Hershel had told her. She had lived with the older man and his family for as long as she could remember, but she knew what he told her was not true. Hershel had been welcoming and kind, always insisting that Imara was part of the family. Maggie and Beth had been so too, Beth more so than the prior. Beth and Imara had been close, and the older of the two viewed the young blonde as someone she could rely on. That was, until her untimely death that shattered Imara's heart.

Although she had no way of telling time other than the height of the sun in the sky, the dark haired girl decided it would be best for her to head back to Alexandria before Rick began to worry. The thought drew her out of her seated position and onto a trail that led through trees until a small gap in the wire fence became prominent in front of her. The whole was only big enough for a fox or badger to pass through upon glance, but Imara had learnt the best way to contort her frame until she was able to slip through the passage with ease and onto the green grass of her home area.

There was an eerie silence about Alexandria that almost made Imara's steading breathing come to a halt, and she pulled the crate that hid her escape route in front of the gap as quietly as possible.

As she trailed through the streets that led up through the white fronted houses, she found the source of the silence. Trucks and various vehicles were lined upon the street, and men she didn't recognised watched her stride through the village. Approaching the largest truck in her sight, she came face to face with the last thing she wanted to see.

Before she could process the evil man's presence outside the homes of the people she loved, another was on her tail and tugging the gun from her holster that rest above her bum, allowing his hand to linger for a moment in a way that made her skin go cold.

"Hey!" She exclaimed, not being afraid to push the man with dark brown hair backwards untul he stumbled to the floor. If it hadn't been for the hand that grabbed her wrist, the girl probably would have lunged at him.

The body spun her around until she was greeted by a washed out Rick who, Imara noted, seemed to have aged ten years since she had seen him that morning. It didn't surprise her. Had she been required to deal with the devil in leather, she probably would have sprouted a few more grey hairs in a matter of hours as he appeared to have done. "It's alright." he almost whispered, unable to meet her eye as he spoke "They're taking them all.."

Imara's pulse rushed with a strange anger at the idea of Rick so easily allowing these people to walk all over them with no fight, but a part of her longed to settle on the understanding of why he was doing this. Yet much to her dismay, she found none.

"Rick, Rick, Rick.." that dreaded voice drawled out, and the man's grip on Imara's wrist appeared to tighten in a subconscious reaction. Looking up, Imara finally bore witness to the smug face of Negan, and every inch of her body was filled with the same hatred she had felt on the night he murdered Glenn and Abraham "I don't believe you've introduced me properly yet. May I say, you are even more beautiful up close than you are at the end of my Lucille." At the mention of the dreaded item, the black haired girl's eyes drifted to the object that Rick held timidly between two of his fingers.

"Negan.. This is Imara.." The reluctancy was evident in Rick's voice as he spoke, and his grip on her wrist slipped as she found her hand being taken in the gloved fingers of the leader of the Saviours. Negan bent slightly, placing a kiss to Imara's hand that turned her knuckles white upon contact. Urging to pull it away, she instead channelled her disgust at the sensation into the glare she shot into his skull.

"An absolute pleasure." He muttered, releasing her hand and giving a curt smile that the girl didn't return, to which he noted. "I do see the feeling isn't mutual."

Negan went to speak again, but a muffled complaining from behind them grew louder, and the three turned to see a curly haired woman pushing a distressed Olivia up the stairs.

"Arat." Negan spoke with a slight huff, glancing between the woman, Arat, and Rick "We don't do that. Unless they do something to deserve it."

"Yeah." Arat spoke gruffly, not giving a glance to Rick and Imara who stood watching "We went through the inventory. Guns in the armory, guns in the header on the walls. They're short." Negan's line of sight drifted to Rick, and the look of pure deceipt in his eyes told that there was trouble. "Glock nine, and a Point Twenty-Two Bobcat."

Staying quiet for a moment, the leader kept his deciding glare on Rick, who's own eyes seemed to search every inch of the area around them, except for meeting the man's own. "Is that true?"

Olivia nodded slowly, unable to move from her spot as Rick began to speak quickly in defense. His tone was laced with worry as he explained "We had some people leave town, those guns went with-"

"So Olivia sucks at her job?" Imara sent a glare towards the man who spoke, detesting the way he so easily twisted words. "That what you're saying?"

"No, I'm not saying that-"

"There should be a full accounting here, right?" It was the way Negan waved the book around that was so intimidating to the group, the unpredictability that was sewn into every short movement. "Top to bottom, am I right?"

Olivia stuttered out a response, blinking repeatedly as a sign of her nerves to be facing the man "No! I mean- yeah.. The inventory is correct."

"Good." Negan slurred, slowly stepping forward until he was just inches away from the cowering woman. "But not so good too.. You see, what's in here, isn't in there. You're two handguns short. Do you know where they are?"

Olivia stuttered again, shaking her head timidly and telling him "No. I-I.."

At her inability to form a continued sentence, Negan drew in an exaggerated breath, stepping backwards towards where Arat lingered. He shot a menacing look over his shoulder towards the Grimed man. "That's disappointing Rick. I thought we had an understanding. And this, well this shows that someone's not on board." His demeanour entirely changed, his shoulder's becoming tightened into a stance that made him seem taller as he spun to face Rick once more. "And I can't have that."

With a heavy foot, he began to trudge towards Olivia once more. A similar grin was plastered on his face, but his voice showed he was anything but joking.

"I don't enjoy killing women." The sentence itself was enough to set Olivia off blubbering, and the sight of her beginning to quiver almost urged Imara to leap forward and embrace her somewhat friend. "Men - I can waste them all the live long! But at the end of the day Olivia, my dear, this was your responsibility."

Rick tried his hardest to calm the situation down, jumping in with "Look we can work this out!" But Negan was quick to shut him down.

"Oh yes we can! And I'm going to, right now!" He exclaimed with an edge to his voice that even scared Imara. Silence followed as each member of the opposing groups watched the other. All that could be heard was Olivia's shaky cries as Negan began to speak once again "This was your job and you screwed up. Keeping track of guns? That shit is life or death.."

"We can find them!" Imara finally exclaimed, being concerned by the short distance between Olivia and the Saviour. Negan jolted back at the sound of her voice, a chuckle running across his greyed features. "Give us time and we can find them."

With a sinister laugh, he finally moved away from the cowering woman, and over to Imara who simply stared up at him. "She fucking speaks!" He smirked, lifting his gloved hand and tapping her cheek twice with a slight venom. "Does she bite?"

"When she wants to." Imara replied bitterly, not stripping her eyes away from the man's light brown ones.

Instead of dignifying an immediate witty response like the girl had expected, Negan instead let out another low chuckle, being the first to break eye contact to glance at Rick, then back to Olivia. "This little one might have just saved your goddamn life." He then continied to turn to who was once the leader of Alexandria, being sure to stay in close proxemity of the girl in front of him. "I'm going to go on a walk. This one is gonna come with me." noricing Imara's look of disgust, he added "She has no fucking choice, unless she wants for my darling Lucille to meet dear Olivia's face there. If the guns aren't here by the time we get back.. well we'll get to that fucking outcome if it happens shall we?"

"We'd be best with Imara here-" Rick urged, both out of his worry for what could happen to the girl if she was alone with the man, mixed in with his fear about a lack of people helping the hunt for the guns. "More people to look, and all.."

"Oh, I know." Negan grinned, glancing between to the two. "That's why I'm taking her. Up for it, Princess?"

Imara chose not to dignify him with a verbal response and instead spun on her heel, beginning to walk down the outstretched path.

From behind her, the man let out a silent chuckle as he leant inward towards Rick. His tone was teasing whilst he watched the girl's figure grow smaller in the distance "Man. Nothing I love more than a girl who plays hard to get."


End file.
